I have struggled to write in the last few weeks. Struggled to let my fingers fly on my keyboard, struggled to let my feelings and thoughts become public.
I feel like I have two choices.
Staying silent. Not bothering anyone. Maintaining the status quo. Keeping face.
The alternative feels like indulgence. As if by allowing myself to be open about what I am feeling, I was trying to feel a joy I am not entitled to. Making others feel bad in order to feel better myself.
It feels like I am using my condition, my issues as an excuse. An explanation to anything I might be doing wrong, I might be failing at.
I was asked by my therapist to tell people at work about the fact I had cancer last year. People I only started working with after the surgery, after I was officially in remission.
It felt wrong.
I pushed back, for weeks.
I did it the day before the deadline we had fixed.
It still feels wrong.
Silence is revered. There is grace, politeness in staying silent. Respect. Decency.
Opening up feels selfish. Forcing my struggles onto someone else. Breaking down walls, allowing people to see something that should remain private.
You draw the curtains at night so people cannot see into your house.
This is my house. It is dark. The lights are bright.
Should I draw the curtain?
I am struggling.
I want to say things.
I want to open up.
I do not want to force this on anyone.
I want to keep silent.
I want to pretend I am fine.
I want people to think I am strong.
I want people to see I am weak.
I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to forget.
I want people to talk about their own problems.
I do not want to bring people down.
I want people to be aware.
I want people to be in the dark.
I do not want to be judged because of the cancer.
I want people to to understand where I am coming from.
I do not want to tell people.
I do not know what to say.
I want to know what to say.
I want people to ask how I am doing and mean it.
I do not want to force them to hear the answer.
I want it to feel natural.
I do not want it to feel like I am complaining.
I refuse to be a bother.
It feels wrong allowing myself to open up.
It feels wrong telling people what they are happy to ignore.
It feels wrong telling people when they have no idea what I am about to say.
It feels wrong saying the words out loud, even after a year and a half.
I am not using it as an excuse.